Seven Go On Holiday
by fanofkdc
Summary: The CSIs and a police detective are all given a welldeserved break to go on a road trip around California
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: FIVE CRIME SCENE INVESTIGATORS, ONE LAB TECH AND ONE HOMICIDE DETECTIVE GO ON HOLIDAY (SEVEN GO ON HOLIDAY)

AUTHOR: FANOFKDC

RATING: G, I PROMISE NOT TO BE RUDE, HONEST.

CONTENT: GSR, HUMOUR.

SUMMARY: SEVEN WORKERS DECIDE TO GO ON HOLIDAY AND HAVE SOME FUN.

AUTHOR'S NOTE AND DISCLAIMER: SARA GRISSOM'S 'ROAD TRIP' AND 'CAMPING TRIP' WERE BOTH A CATALYST FOR THIS FIC, BUT I HAVEN'T COPIED ANYTHING FROM THOSE FICS. THEY JUST GAVE ME AN IDEA. I DON'T OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS THAT I CAN THINK OF YET, BUT I'LL STICK A NOTE IN IF I CREATE ANY.

CHAPTER ONE: ANNUAL STAFF VACATION?

Grissom didn't like the conspiratorial looks on Catherine and Brass's faces as they ushered him into the break room. "What's going on?" Grissom was highly suspicious of his friends' motives.

"Oh, stop worrying," Brass muttered. He had hold of Grissom's left arm, and Catherine was tugging at the right side.

"Catherine, seeing as you're not supposed to be a human version of the rack, would you kindly stop trying to pull my arm out of its socket," Grissom snapped. "I'd be a lot more willing to move along with you if you told me what was going on," he added.

Catherine stopped tugging, and came to a standstill. Brass wasn't expecting the motion, so he carried on moving forward, unaware that he was the only one walking. He pulled Grissom's left arm, and Grissom was jerked forward into the break room, sending Catherine behind him almost on her knees. Nick, Warrick, Greg and Sara were on a break, and looked up with some amusement when they saw their superiors engaged in what looked like a tug of war.

"Now, now, children," Sara pretended to scold. "I know we all want Grissom to ourselves, but trying to divide him in a style reminiscent of King Solomon will only end in tears."

Grissom pouted. "I can't help it, Sara. They just grabbed hold of my arms and dragged me in here, telling me there was an important decision I had to make."

Nick nodded in realisation. "They want you to choose where we're going for our annual staff vacation."

Grissom, Greg and Sara's mouths dropped open. "Annual staff vacation?" they questioned in unison.

Brass nodded. "As a way of currying favour with us decent, hard-working night shift CSIs and other assorted nick-knacks, Sheriff Atwater has told me that we have been given a budget to go on holiday somewhere in the country. We go for two weeks, and with the budget, we pick a place to visit. We can order a minibus, and we look for a place to stay when we get to wherever we go."

Greg was sceptical. "Fair enough Brass, but why is Bug-boy here choosing the place? We all know he'll probably want to take us to some insect convention."

Grissom looked hurt, and Sara spoke up in his defence. "Firstly, 'Bug-boy here', as you so delicately put it, pays your wages. Secondly, he's boss of the night shift CSIs. We never get a say. We just merely bow to his whims." Sara sneaked a smile at Grissom over the top of Warrick's head.

"So," Catherine said. "Where are we going?"

"Jack Daniels distillery" Nick piped up.

"Oh yeah Cinderella. A, we can spend two weeks there, can't we? B, why don't you choose somewhere in Texas, not Tennessee?" Warrick snorted in mock-disdain for his friend. "How about the Grand Canyon?" It was no secret that Warrick was the geology buff.

"Most of us have seen it, Warrick," Catherine said. "Not unless we stock up on food and water, and park the minibus in the canyon, and stay there for two weeks," she suggested.

"Since it was your idea to get Grissom to choose where we would go, don't you think it's up to him?" Sara asked gingerly.

Grissom shot her a grateful smile. "Thank you. I think we should go to ..."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

SEVEN GO ON HOLIDAY

CHAPTER TWO: WHERE ARE WE GOING TO GO?

Brass, Catherine, Nick, Warrick, Greg and Sara waited with baited breath for Grissom's decision. Well, not so much Sara, as the other five. Sara knew that she would have a nice time wherever they went, just as long as Grissom was there. The two of them had made the decision not to tell the other CSIs that they were dating. Grissom said that he wanted to wait until the time was right, and Sara was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion that it would be some time over the next two weeks.

"I think we should go to California," Grissom answered after what seemed like an age.

"No!" Five whiny voices chorused in unison, and the sound reminded Sara of part of _Bohemian Rhapsody_. The next minute Greg would probably stand on the table and yell 'Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me'.

"Why don't you want to go to California? I think it's a great idea," Sara said.

Catherine sniffed. "You're only saying that because you're natives."

"Sara and I hold the majority," Grissom reminded her. "Brass is from New Jersey, Nick is from Texas, Warrick's from Vegas, you're from Montana, and Greg's from Mars. So we're going to California."

Greg shook his head. "What is there to do in California?"

"Lots of things," Sara piped up. "There's Getty's museum, Hurst Castle, the aquarium at Monterrey, San Francisco, Disneyland ..." her voice trailed off, and she noticed that everyone else seemed to have been won over. "All we do is make a list of two places we would like to go each. You put them in preferential order. There'll be fourteen places to go, if we assumed that everyone wanted to go someplace different. There will be people who share preferences, so that's no problem; it'll cut down on travel time. Then, we have a look at the budget we've been given. Order rooms in a motel. Then we work our way north, considering all the places we want to go, and book a minibus we can take." Sara turned fully to Grissom. "When do we go?"

Brass cut in. "Next week. So we have a week to decide where we go, and to book places."

Grissom shook his head. "No, we'll have to book in a couple of days. If you all go home tonight, think of two places, and we'll compare them tomorrow. Then I'll go through the destinations, and book the tickets and stuff."

"I'll do that," Brass countered. "I'm the senior here, so I'm handling the money the sheriff gives us."

"Fair," Grissom murmured. He wasn't really bothered.

Nick, Warrick and Greg left the break room loudly discussing all the best rides to go on at Disneyland, and Brass and Catherine left bitching about the unfairness of their grand scheme.

It was only Grissom and Sara left in the break room. Grissom walked up to Sara, and, checking no one on the outside could see what was going on, placed his hands on her waist. "You come up with some good ideas," he half-whispered.

Sara smiled. "Yeah, I'm not just a pretty face."

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "Well I have an even better idea," he said, his voice low and seductive.

Sara tried to mentally and physically restrain herself from kissing him in their workplace. "What's that?" Her voice was husky.

"No matter where anyone else wants to sleep, we're sharing a room." His daring surprised her.

"What about a bed?" The question wasn't improper in any real sense of the word, but it made up for that by being cheeky.

"I don't have any arguments," Grissom replied. He stood up straighter and removed his hands from her waist. "How about we go home and I pick you out a nice bikini for the beach?"

"Go ahead, _Bug-man_. But if it's anything like what my mother would choose, I'm not letting you near me again."

Sara picked up her purse, and waited for Grissom to collect his jacket and briefcase from his office, and they exited the building together.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE: ARE YOU TAKING THAT ON HOLIDAY WITH YOU?

"Sara!" Grissom called through to the bathroom. "Are you almost finished in there? I want us to make our list before we go to bed, in case we forget when we get up for work."

Sara opened the bathroom door, whilst simultaneously fastening her bathrobe. "Bathroom is now vacated," she replied. "What's the hurry?"

Grissom ignored the question, and instead eyed the robe. "You know you don't have to wear that around the house, don't you?"

Sara slapped his arm. "I think I might get a chill, don't you? Besides, I don't want to spoil your surprise." She pointed at the coffee table, where two sheets of paper and two pens sat. "Come on buster, I thought we were making our destination list."

The two of them sat at the couch. Grissom handed paper and pen to Sara, and picked up his. "No conferring, though. I don't want to be responsible for influencing your decision."

Grissom and Sara scribbled away on the paper, and were finished within half a minute. It was evident that they both knew where they were going. "Swap papers," Sara instructed.

"God, this feels like a school test," Grissom commented as he handed his sheet to Sara and accepted hers.

"We both chose Disneyland," Sara replied, somewhat disappointed. "And we both chose Santa Barbara beach."

Grissom nodded. "Great minds think alike," he commented. "What made you choose those two?"

Sara shrugged. "Ah, Disneyland's synonymous with having a good time, and chances are that everyone else chose it. Santa Barbara, because before I went to Harvard, three girlfriends and I had our 'goodbye party' there. We had a great time. Nice place to get a tan." She looked at Grissom. His face suggested that he was in a state of bliss, no doubt contemplating what Sara would look like in a tan and bikini. "What about you?" She asked.

"Me? Disneyland equals rollercoasters. I look forward to being able to share them with you. Santa Barbara? It's not too full of tourists. It's still a quiet place. And I love my saints. Don't forget, I come from Santa Monica." He put the pen and paper down on the table, and Sara copied his movements. "So, what's this surprise?"

"Under the bathrobe? Oh, just the clothes you'd wear in a bath," Sara answered Grissom's and her own question.

Grissom replied with a puzzled frown. "But you don't wear clothes in the bath," he said.

Sara rolled her eyes. "Exactly my point. God, you may be clever, but you certainly are clueless sometimes." She stood up, and the bathrobe parted slightly at the leg, revealing a nice shot of thigh for Grissom to contemplate. She nudged his arm. "I wouldn't look at it if I were you. It feels a lot better than it looks," Sara told him. She looked at his sceptical expression. "Hey," she said in defence. "Don't just take my word for it. Sample some for yourself." She turned and walked to the bedroom.

"I think I will," Grissom muttered under his breath as he followed her.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR: WHERE DO WE GO IN CALIFORNIA?

"Okay guys, are we ready to choose where we'll go in California?" Grissom clapped his hands to get the attention of the assorted crims in the break room. "Nick, you go first."

"Uh, okay. I chose Disneyland and Monterrey Bay Aquarium." The Texan looked up to see Grissom scribbling on a sheaf of paper. "What are you writing for?"

"Oh, I'm writing down the places everyone chose so we can shortlist our destinations," Grissom answered without looking up. "Warrick, what about you?"

"Disneyland, of course. Ventura Beach. Nice place, I went there with an ex."

"I take it everyone chose Disneyland, then," Grissom said, still writing on his piece of paper.

"Yup. I had to Gil; Lindsay wants me to bring back a stuffed Mickey Mouse. So I thought another nice place to go would be the Monterrey Jazz Festival. It's on next week, so we could go to the aquarium then the festival."

"Sounds like a good idea, Cath. Where do you want to go, Jim?"

The burly police detective shrugged. "I always wanted to go to Disneyland. Apart from that, you can drag me wherever."

Grissom looked up at his friend and raised an eyebrow. Brass shrugged again, signifying that he didn't want a second choice destination. "Fair enough," Grissom replied. "Greg, seeing as you also come from Cali, and not Mars, like I assumed, where do you wanna go?"

Greg swayed his shoulders in typical Sanders-style flamboyance. "Well, I was a sheltered child ..." he was cut off by Sara snorting. "... So I didn't really see much of California. What I did see made me resolve to leave as soon as possible ..."

"Sanders," Sara warned. "We're here for your choice, not your life story." She looked as if she might impale him on a spike, and Greg wouldn't put it past her to do it. After all, she knew how to get away with it.

"Disneyland and San Francisco," he answered quickly.

"Good choice Greg," Grissom replied. "Sara and I would like to go to Disneyland and Santa Monica." Realising he had probably let the cat peek its head out of the bag, he looked at her, and she nodded her agreement. "We also have something to tell you."

"Let me guess," Catherine butted in. "You're dating, right? What a surprise."

"How did you guess?" Sara spluttered.

"You've been drooling over each other for quite a while now. Look, Sara," Catherine added when she saw Sara's affront. "We're paid to spot things going on. And anyway, it sure beats having you being pissed off at Grissom, and him trying to ignore your existence."

Grissom made a mental note to kill Catherine. Like Sara, he too knew how to get away with it. "So, we're spending four days in Monterrey, three days at Disneyland, one day at Ventura, one day at Santa Monica and our last three days in San Francisco. We need two days for travelling to and from California."

Brass nodded and plucked Grissom's sheet from the other man's hand. On it were written dates for visiting their various destinations. "I'll book the hotels. Catherine, you and Nick can be responsible for jazz and aquarium tickets. Warrick, you can book the minivan, I don't trust Greg to do anything. Sara, you can have the big task of booking the Disneyland tickets." The stocky detective left the room to begin his self-appointed task.

"Whoa, we're going to California!" Greg whooped loudly, and Grissom rolled his eyes.

"But first, we're _going to work_," he reminded the enthusiastic lab rat.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE: DO YOU HAVE TO PACK SO MANY CLOTHES?

"Grissom," Sara sighed in exasperation. It was the night before they were due to start their road trip of California, and Grissom was having a hard time trying to pack his suitcase. Sara, being the organised and enterprising type, had packed her case the night before, leaving out only the things she would need in the meantime, such as toiletries and towels.

"What?" Grissom was not in the best of moods, and Sara quickly recognised it.

She approached Grissom, who was hunched over the bed trying to stuff neatly folded clothes into a suitcase, and rubbed his shoulders. "Gil, you're trying to put too much stuff in. You don't need that many clothes."

"Well, perhaps you can explain to me how to pack a suitcase properly then," he muttered angrily.

Sara wasn't fazed. "Sure thing honey," she replied sweetly. "We're going for fourteen days, so we can take seven lots of everything. All you have to do is wear a t-shirt twice," she added, seeing the disdainful look on his face. "It's a holiday, not a business trip. "Seven t-shirts, plus, say, two for emergency. Three pairs of shorts and four pairs of long pants, plus two as spare. Two pairs of swim trunks, you won't need any more than that. Seven pairs of socks and underpants, with a couple of spare pairs should suffice. Take a couple of sweaters to keep you warm. Don't forget, you can always travel to and from California in the same clothes." It occurred to Sara that she sounded like a long-suffering wife.

Grissom nodded and felt his heartbeat slow again, as he felt less stressed. "Two towels, one set of nightwear. I think I get it. Thank you honey," he added.

Sara raised an eyebrow. "Who said you'd need nightwear?"

"Well, I take it after the way I was just now, I'm not exactly in your good books."

Sara laughed. "Just because you were a bit grouchy? No, you really have to piss me off in order to warrant something as drastic as no rewards." She looked at her watch. "It's eight now, and we have to be at Brass's for nine in the morning. That's a half hour drive, and we're best to be there fifteen minutes early. Should take us about two hours to be ready, just to be safe, so that's ..."

"Say we're up at half six," Grissom replied without missing a beat. "What time would you like to go to bed?" He asked.

"I can go to bed now, but I'm not talking about sleeping," Sara remarked, winking.

Grissom tried not to smile. "Any other night apart from tonight. We're not used to the transition from nights to days yet. We could do with as much sleep as possible," Grissom told her.

Sara frowned. "Spoilsport," she muttered.

"No one said anything about not getting a kiss, though," Grissom said, trying to console her.

Her face brightened up, and she wrapped her arms round him. "That almost makes up for it then, I guess." She let go slightly, allowing Grissom to tilt her chin towards him. They shared the kiss, but Grissom pulled away pretty soon.

"What's wrong?" Sara asked worriedly, afraid she'd done something wrong.

"Nothing," Grissom answered, reading her face and rubbing her neck in consolation. "I just don't want to start something I know we won't be able to finish tonight."

"It's frustrating you though, isn't it?"

Grissom shrugged, trying not to look bothered. "It'll make it all the worth while when we get to California."

"I guess so," Sara replied gently. She kissed his lips one last time, and turned to heave the now-packed and closed suitcase on the bed. "Night, honey," she said sleepily.

"Yeah, night to you too. Love you," Grissom answered.

"Love you too," Sara returned, without really registering it. 'He loves me,' she thought blissfully before her head hit the pillow and she went out like a light.

Grissom gazed in proud wonder at the sleeping figure. 'She loves me,' he thought before he too dropped into bed and slept soundly.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER SIX: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THROWING?

Catherine was roused from her sleep by the feeling that someone was throwing popcorn, or some other kind of missile at her. She immediately regretted falling asleep on the minibus. The way the seats were made meant that she would be suffering from neck cramp for quite a while. To top it all off, she had fallen asleep on a minibus that held Greg Sanders, so she was pretty sure she wasn't safe.

She looked around her. They were almost two and a half hours into their journey, so Warrick would be driving for a little while yet. Brass was sitting in the passenger seat next to him, and they were both discussing major league baseball. Grissom and Sara were sitting a couple of seats behind driver and passenger. They looked pretty snug. Sara was sitting by the window, but the way she was positioned in her seat, she was more facing it, with her back to Grissom. At first, Catherine thought they had fallen out, and were being stubborn, but when she looked more closely, she saw that Grissom had tucked his left arm underneath both of Sara's arms, and that Sara was leaning back into Grissom. She was using him to prop up her back.

Catherine looked behind her, in the direction from which the missile came. Three seats behind her, Nick and Greg were trying to look innocent, huddled behind a magazine. Catherine noticed that spread over their knees were two bags of popcorn, a bag of elastic bands and a pad of paper, which housed some sort of weird scrawling. She ducked down in her seat, and prayed to God for the strength to kill both Nick and Greg, at the same time, in equally horrible and painful ways.

Grissom and Sara were oblivious to the missile-flinging contest taking place behind them. Sara felt very comfortable using Grissom as a backrest, and Grissom was keeping his arm warm on Sara's stomach. He was equally engrossed in his book, an Isaac Asimov novel, one he had read before, but that was okay with him. This was a holiday, and he had no intention of bogging down his brain with scientific facts. He sneaked a look at Sara out of the corner of his eye, something he found himself doing more and more often. She was absorbed in a Clive Barker, one of the Hellraiser books by the looks of things. "Don't those things scare the hell out of you?" Grissom lowered his head and whispered in the direction of her ear.

Sara looked up. "Nope. I saw all those horror films when I was younger. Texas Chainsaw, Nightmare on Elm Street, Halloween; the list is endless. None of them scared me."

Grissom raised his eyebrow. "You're kidding, right? I went to see Texas Chainsaw when it came out; I had to leave to leave the movie house when Leatherface stuck that girl on the meat hook."

Sara laughed. "Have you seen the remake? It's even more gory than the original."

Grissom shrugged, and turned sombre. "I guess stuff like that unnerves me. We see stuff like this every day, results of man's hatred turned on other people. I don't need to see horror films to remind me of those sorts of crimes. Work does that."

"You have a point," Sara conceded. "I never see it like that. What we see in our work is the after-effects of those crimes. These films, to an extent, explore the pathology behind the perpetrators of the crimes. If you'd have stayed for the end of Texas Chainsaw, you would've seen that Leatherface was physically abused by his father. He was one of those kids at school who was bullied, and it had a bad effect on him."

"Columbine was a copy of that, though," Grissom argued. "Instead of rampaging chainsaws, people were killed by guns. Kids killed other kids. That's wrong."

"But why were those jocks killed? They victimised the kids. However wrong it was, those jocks got their comeuppance." Sara broke off. "Hey, we're supposed to be on holiday, not debating crimes and criminals. That's for work. We should just relax now." She turned back to her book.

Grissom said nothing, and he too turned back to his reading material. He hoped that Warrick would stop for a break soon, for he feared his leg muscles might atrophy if he didn't walk around.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER SEVEN: WHEN THE HELL DO WE GET A BREAK?

Warrick was getting fed up with all the whining around him. It was like watching a film where the kids in the back of the car would yell 'Are we nearly there yet?' every five minutes. The last shout had come from Greg.

"We're stopping at the next service station, Greg. It's five miles down the road. Now everyone stop asking me questions relating to when or where we are stopping next, otherwise I'm going to strap you to the luggage rack." Everybody knew Warrick, and knew that he would strap them to the luggage rack.

A couple of minutes later, and he guided the minivan off the highway and onto the exit for the service station. It was a small complex, only occupied with a gas station and restroom. The group groaned. "Why the hell couldn't you find us somewhere that had adequate shopping space?" The complaint came from Catherine.

Warrick frowned, trying his best to look serious. "Um, 'cause you guys wanted me to stop at the next service station we came across because your leg muscles were atrophying? I guess you don't mind going back in the van for another one hundred and seventeen miles, huh?" He turned the engine back on, and made to drive the van off towards the exit ramp and back onto the highway.

At the sound of his plan, six voices rose up in protest, and Greg dashed to the front of the van, trying to physically prevent Warrick from operating the van.

"Brass, will you get this freak off me?" Warrick called, his voice muffled by some part of Greg's anatomy, most likely his arms or chest. Brass enlisted Nick in helping to pull the nutty lab technician off their designated driver.

When the pandemonium had died down, Warrick smoothed out his shirt and opened the door. "Okay Nick, you're up next. How long should we break for?" He asked the others.

"We've been stuck on that van for three hours," Sara complained. "I'm not getting back on that thing for another half hour, at least."

"Sounds good to me," Catherine agreed. "Us ladies need to powder our noses and relieve ourselves."

"Does that take one hour?" Grissom asked, disbelievingly.

"It does if you're Sara Sidle or Catherine Willows," Nick replied. "Come on, they're women. Not only do they hunt in packs, they pee in packs. I suggest we go and have a male-bonding session," he added, putting his arms playfully around Greg and Warrick.

Grissom and Brass exchanged uncertain looks, and Nick grinned. "Hey guys, don't tell me you're unfamiliar with the practise of sharing soda and popcorn. It'd be beer, but I'm driving, and I can't afford to get inebriated."

The group missed the exchange of looks between Grissom and Sara. Her DUI had occurred what seemed like a lifetime ago, and neither of them had talked about in quite a long time. Grissom hoped nothing would bring it back to the surface.

"Okay folks," Warrick said, interrupting the couple's thoughts. "Bonding session for an hour. And hey, if the girls don't take too long, maybe they can join us."

And off they went for nose-powdering and popcorn consumption.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

SEVEN GO ON HOLIDAY CHAPTER EIGHT: SHALL WE DRAW PICTURES ON GREG'S FACE?

An hour later, and the group of CSIs had assembled back at the minibus. They had to wait outside because Nick and Warrick had decided to take their time walking back to the vehicle, and they had the keys.

When the pair finally ambled up, Brass walked over to them. "You've gotta help me," he whispered. "There is no way I'm sitting next to Sanders. Warrick, is it okay if I sit in front?"

Warrick shrugged. "Doesn't bother me," he said agreeably. "I'm gonna sit next to Catherine." He took the keys out of his pocket and opened the door, ignoring the looks that Nick and Brass exchanged.

"I think someone is falling for someone else," Nick murmured to Brass.

"Yeah, and I thought one pair of lovebirds was enough on this trip. Mind you," he added. "I'm not complaining. I don't have to sit next to Greg."

Greg wondered why everybody was going round talking in hushed voices. _Must be planning a surprise for me,_ he thought.

The CSIs were half an hour through the second leg of their journey to California. The initial anticipation and jollity had died down, and most of the group was preoccupied with getting some sleep. Both Sara and Grissom had dozed off, with Grissom leaning against the window, having traded places with Sara. Sara was resting her head on his shoulder, and his arm was around her. Catherine and Warrick were sitting alone in order to discredit any speculations that there was anything going on between them. Warrick was sitting with his head flipped back, his mouth wide open, a sound equivalent to the eruption of Mt. St. Helens escaping the gaping hole in his face. In contrast, Catherine was tucked up in her seat, her back to the window, resting on the frame, and her head lolled to one side against the back of the seat. She made no noise. Greg was snoring peacefully.

Grissom awoke with a start. He had been having trouble getting off to sleep, and now, with Motor Mouth Brown in attendance and going full steam ahead, he doubted he'd be able to get back to sleep. He looked down at Sara and saw that her eyes were open. "I have an idea," he whispered to her.

Sara looked at Grissom curiously, and to answer her, he opened his bag and took out a black marker pen. "There's two people I wanna get," he explained. "Motor Mouth and Lab Rat."

Sara grinned in excitement.

Nick finished his driving stint and pulled into the service station. This one was exactly like every other one they had passed.

"Brass, your turn when we've had a break," he informed the police captain.

"Okay. I'll ..." he began. The group was in the process of disembarking from the minibus, and he spotted Warrick and Greg's interesting facial decorations. The both of them had a pair of glasses daubed around their eyes. Someone had drawn a moustache on Greg's upper lip, and extended Warrick's sideburns. Brass's eyes swept the assembled company, and when he caught Grissom and Sara's, they both winked at him. He wondered how Warrick and Greg would take it.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER NINE: DID ANYONE ELSE FIND THAT FUNNY?

THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO MICHELE – SORRY WE HAVEN'T SPOKEN IN AGES.

It was safe to say that Warrick and Greg did not appreciate the artwork daubed upon their faces. Looking back on it, Grissom and Sara felt quite guilty about doing it, but it would probably mean that at least there would be no more snoring and clowning around on the minibus.

"What the hell have you got on your face?" Greg asked Warrick when the minibus had made it's last stop before California.

"I ain't got anythin' on my face bro', but what the hell's that on yours?" Warrick retorted. Sanders may have been playing a trick on him, but there was black daubed all over the lab technician's face. "You got glasses and a moustache," Warrick informed Greg.

"So have you," Greg replied. "And more sideburns."

"What the …" Warrick looked around the group. "Who is responsible for this?"

No one replied, they just occupied themselves with looking innocent. Then Greg spotted something. A black marker splodge on Grissom's right hand. "It was you, wasn't it?" He asked Grissom.

"Nope, nothing to do with me," Grissom replied, inwardly cursing.

"Yeah it was, there's the marker pen leak to prove it, on your hand," Greg insisted.

Warrick grabbed the supervisor's hand. "Yep, that looks like black marker to me," he agreed.

"Okay, okay, I did it," Grissom confessed. "But Warrick was snoring, and Greg … well, Greg was being Greg."

"Gotta give Greg credit, though," Sara said. "He figured it out that you did it."

"Wasn't just me," Grissom retorted angrily.

Sara employed soothing tactics. She rubbed Grissom's arm. "Okay, fair enough, I was involved too," she admitted. "But I didn't leave behind any recriminating evidence," she chuckled.

Grissom just seethed. "Who's next on the driving rota?" He muttered angrily.

"Um, I'm not sure," Nick replied.

"I'll go next then," Grissom answered. "Give me a change of scenery. Okay, we got ten minutes here, then we're back on the road." He stalked off, followed quickly by Sara, and Greg and Warrick, who wanted to wash the marks off their faces.

"Hey, Gil, wait up," Sara called.

"No. Unless you need to use the bathroom get back to the minivan," he called over his shoulder.

Sara winced and walked slowly back to the minivan where Brass and Catherine were waiting.

"Why does he get so pissed off like that?" She asked of no one in particular.

"Hey Sara, don't worry. He's been like that for as long as I can remember. Hell, I spoke to his mom, and he was always like this as a child. A way of protecting himself, I suppose," Catherine said, putting her arm around Sara.

"Just because I said he'd done that? Warrick and Greg weren't that bothered, and I accepted responsibility."

"Don't get disheartened," Brass told her. "He gets a little … touchy sometimes." There was something in Brass's voice that suggested that wasn't all that happened.

"He doesn't get violent or anything does he?" Sara tried to sound less worried than she was, but it didn't work.

"Hey, he would never hurt anyone," Catherine told her definitively. "Just give him the cold shoulder for a bit, then he'll wise up and see that he acted unreasonably." Seeing the scepticism on Sara's face, Catherine tried to console her. "Look, all of us, maybe with the exception of Brass, know how to get rid of a dead body. If your strategy doesn't work, I'll get Nicky to help out with the disposal of Grissom."

Sara smiled. "Okay, you've won me over." She looked up. "Here he comes, I'm getting back in." She went round the other side of the minibus and climbed up, moved to her seat and closed her eyes, feigning sleep.

"Where's Sara?" Grissom asked Catherine and Brass.

"Asleep, don't wake her up or you'll you're incur the wrath of Sidle," Catherine warned.

Grissom paid her no notice, and entered the minibus to find Sara 'asleep'.

"Sara," he whispered, but he got no reply. "Sara, it's me. Are you gonna sit at the front with me?" Still no answer. He shrugged, bent over, and kissed her cheek. "Sorry for being a grouch," he whispered in her ear, and turned back to the front where he would be driving on the last leg of the journey.

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN: YOU'RE NOT ANGRY WITH ME ARE YOU?

All seven of the group were absolutely exhausted. They fell out of the minibus at the Monterrey hotel. They would have the first half of the day tomorrow free, and would be going to several events in the afternoon and evening.

Grissom knew he had been unnecessarily unfair to Sara, and tried to make it up to her, not just by unloading her bag, but everybody else's too. He couldn't help getting angry sometimes; he normally kept his frustration under impeccable check, but every now and then, he let it slip. It didn't help that he was feeling sexually frustrated. Funny how you always hurt the one you love.

Once he had made sure everybody had their room arrangements sorted, and were happy with them, he returned to the room he was sharing with Sara.

Sara, following Catherine's advice, was keeping herself fairly distanced, and responding to any questions from Grissom in a monosyllabic tone.

"Sara," Grissom spoke gently. "Are you okay?"

Sara's head shot up at this absurd question. She'd had enough of being unresponsive, and thought it was high time she told Grissom exactly what she thought. "Well, let's see," she snarled. "You completely freak on me for the marker pen incident, and when I try to apologise, you just push me away, so I was kinda beginning to think that we were regressing to a familiar pattern here, which worried me."

"I'll take that as a 'no,' then?" He caught the look on her face, and kneeled beside the bed on which she was sitting. "Look, I'm sorry. It's a habit I have. I've always done it as a kid. I had the most fantastic mood swings as a child. I have the horrible thought that if I became a dictator, I'd end up killing most of the people close to me because they had their top button undone, or something similar." He noted the scepticism on Sara's face. "Honey, what I'm trying to say is that I didn't mean to blow up at you. I was just is one of my moods. Plus the fact I was frustrated. That always makes situations worse."

Sara caught the look on his face. Those eyes, who could resist them? She knew he was telling the truth, and that he probably just needed some time to simmer and then cool down. Besides, she had taken his reaction to heart for reasons similar to those he gave for blowing up.

Grissom saw her eyes, and knew immediately what she was planning. "You sure?"

Sara smiled. "If it relaxes us, then yeah. Besides, we got all morning to sleep." She noticed something about his expression. "What?" She asked, touching his cheek. "Did you forget to bring protection?"

"No. I'm just …. it feels kinda weird, I guess. That for so long nothing like this has happened, and now …. just ignore me, I just gotta use the bathroom," he finished, standing and going to get changed.

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN: WILL YOU DANCE WITH ME?

Grissom and Sara managed to have a lie-in the next day. Everyone had been asked to meet in the afternoon for the first event of the jazz festival, so it gave those who wanted to explore the chance to get up and investigate at their own pace. Warrick and Catherine had gone out early for a stroll along the waterfront, Nick and Greg had gone for a jog, Brass was sitting in the hotel's dining area eating breakfast and reading the paper, and Grissom and Sara were lazing around in bed.

"You want me to call down for some room service?" Grissom asked.

"It's up to you. I'm perfectly happy to just lay here and not move a muscle," Sara mumbled, her face buried in Grissom's chest. "Why? Are you hungry?"

"Not really, I just thought you might be," he replied, rubbing her back.

"That means you are hungry, but you won't call down if I don't want anything," Sara chuckled. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Go on, then. Call down for some food while I get ready," she instructed him, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Oh, and by the way, I really enjoy making love to you."

"Uh, thanks. I enjoy making love to you, too. What would you like?" Grissom called as Sara entered the bathroom.

"Just some coffee and toast, please. What are you going to have?"

"I don't know. I'll think of something while I wait for them to answer the phone," he answered sardonically.

When Sara came out of the bathroom, Grissom was sitting on the now-made bed in the white t-shirt and boxer shorts in which he slept, pouring coffee into two cups.

"Hey," Sara greeted him, smiling. "What did you decide on having?"

"Just some muesli, fruit juice, and coffee. Your toast's on your bedside table," he added, nodding to Sara's side of the bed.

"How did you sleep?" Sara asked between sips of coffee.

"Like a log, eventually," Grissom commented, throwing her a sideways glance and smile. "How about you?" He added innocently.

"Well, I can't remember anything between finishing our 'activities' and waking up, so I must've slept well." She returned the smirk.

"You know, you do seem to be tossing and turning a lot less, now," Grissom told her. During the first month of their relationship, it had been very dangerous to share the same bed as Sara; due to sleep disturbances and bad dreams, she tended to toss and turn an awful lot, making Grissom feel as if he was lying next to a windmill.

"Yeah, that's 'cause you have your arms round me. I can't move," Sara countered, trying to avoid the subject.

"What was making you move around like that?"

Sara glanced up sharply from her toast. "I don't want to talk about it. How many times do I have to ask you not to bring it up?"

Grissom threw up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey honey, I'm only asking because I'm concerned. I won't in future, though. You want me to know something about you, I won't bother asking, I'll wait for you to tell me." He finished his coffee and thudded off to the bathroom.

At one o'clock, Brass, Nick, Catherine, Warrick, Greg, Sara, and Grissom all met in the hotel lobby.

"Catherine and I went to check out the venues where we'll be today. They're all dotted along the waterfront, so it's only a ten-minute walk there, and then a couple of minutes between each place. The first event is in three quarters of an hour, it's some guy from Yale doing a set of Chicago jazz from the twenties, it should be good," Warrick told them.

The rest of the group nodded, and set off for the waterfront, Sara walking off quickly in the direction of Nick and Greg, and Brass loitering near the back, waiting to speak to Grissom.

"So, what's up with you two?" Brass blurted out as soon as the others were ahead of them.

"Nothing's up, Jim." Grissom's reply was terse.

"Then what's going on? First you bite her head off before your driving shift, and now she bounds off to go and talk to two young male colleagues."

Grissom winced at Jim's words. "Firstly, I did not bite her head off. I got a little .… pissed off …." he ignored Jim's snort, "and took it out on her. Then I apologised and we made up. Secondly, we had a chat before, and I overstepped the mark, she didn't like it, and now, as a result, she's going to realise that she could do so much better than me, and will go off a romp with both Nick and Greg." This last statement, much to Jim's surprise, was worded not with an exaggerated tone, but with fear.

"Oh come on, you don't seriously think she'd chose Nick or Greg over you? Look, you understand her a lot better than they do, and everyone here knows it. She doesn't have to explain herself to you. Does she?" He added, noting the look on Gil's face. "What was the chat about, anyway?"

"Oh, I commented that she'd stopped tossing and turning in bed, and then I asked her why she did it in the first place, and she basically told me to back off. I mean, fair enough, I do ask her about it often, but is that really asking her to explain herself?"

"No, of course it's not. What else are you supposed to do? Read her mind? Deep down, she knows you're concerned, but you know how she gets when she's defensive. Just show her you care, little acts, stuff like that, and she'll soon get the picture." He broke off when he saw Sara dwindling at the back of the group ahead of him. "Here's your chance, I'll leave you two alone," he told Grissom, strolling off towards the others.

"What was that about?" Sara asked Grissom as he caught up to her.

"Oh, nothing. Just two old friends catching up. Haven't had a chance to do that in a while," Grissom told her nonchalantly, reaching for her hand.

"You didn't tell him about us, did you?" Sara asked, narrowing her eyes.

"What about us? I wasn't aware there was anything to tell," Grissom replied innocently.

"Oh, that's okay, then," Sara said plainly.

Grissom pulled her close to him and slipped his arm round her waist. "You mean, did I blab about our set-to earlier on?" He whispered in her ear. "No, I didn't. He figured something was up, but I just said that it was nothing."

"Good," Sara answered, moving her body even closer to him. "If the opportunity arises here, can we dance?"

"What kind of question is that? It's expected of us. Actually, I was thinking that you might ask not to dance."

"Why would I do that?"

"You probably want to spend the trip with your feet intact." They both laughed, knowing that it wasn't really true.


	12. Chapter 12

THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO ALL MY FANS - OKAY, EVERYONE WHO HAS DROPPED A LINE SINCE I STARTED POSTING BACK ON HERE - THIS IS FOR _YOU_. AS IS EVERYTHING NOW. I'M BEGINNING TO WRITE AS MUCH FOR THOSE WHO READ THE STORIES AS I AM FOR MY OWN ENJOYMENT. ONCE AGAIN, THANK YOU FOR ALL THE POSITIVE REVIEWS.

The music was washing all over them - Nick and Greg's reaction to the jazz surprised Brass, who wouldn't have figured they'd be as moved by it as they were. Then again, it could have been because they were trying to impress two women who were standing nearby, but Brass didn't feel it his place to judge. Warrick and Catherine were sitting in companionable silence, occassionally swapping the odd comment, but mainly enjoying each other's presence. _What an unlikely couple_. Then Grissom and Sara - the two enigmas of the team. Brass wasn't all that surprised they had hooked up, though he wondered why it took them long enough to get together. Grissom may have been his friend, but he cared for Sara too, especially after being the first person to suspect an alcohol issue somewhere. So he was happy they were finally a couple. The only issue was the volatile nature of their relationship - both were head-strong, although Grissom could be deliberately obtuse sometimes, a trait that Sara obviously didn't like too much. Then again, she had her own quirks, and they definitely bothered Grissom, in the context that he hated her not telling him anything about what was troubling her.

Brass smiled to himself, sipping his scotch, wanting to know when such a propensity for psychoanalysis had become a dominant trait in _his_ personality. Fair enough, he had been a cop for many years, but had always avoided questioning motives. _Damn the geeksquad_ he thought affectionately. They were all getting under his skin.

"You think Brass is okay?" Sara asked Grissom, leaning into his side a bit more.

Grissom glanced over his shoulder, catching Jim's attention. he detective nodded at him, a smile on his face. "Yeah, he's fine," Grissom replied, turning his head back to the front, where the jazz genius from Yale was playing. Gil pressed a kiss to Sara's cheek. "You enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"Yeah. It's just nice to be with everyone away from work." They were silent for a while, basking in the glory and atmosphere of a bygone era.

"Man, that was some musician," Warrick enthused, taking care to not walk along with Catherine in case they aroused too much suspicion. Instead, he chose to stride along with Brass.

Catherine was keeping Nick and Greg company, secretly marvelling at the talent the guys on the nightshift had - except for Brass and Grissom. Yes, Brass was nice, but Brass was Brass - not her type. And Grissom? The bugs. The bodyfarm. The non-existent social life. Yeah, great potential. Not. But Nick? Warrick? Even Greg? They were all young, all pretty buff, all had their hearts in the right place too. Just a shame she couldn't have them all. She'd have to settle for Warrick.

"So, what's the story between you and Rock Boy?" Nick teased.

Catherine put a hand on his sleeve. "Dear Nicky, are you jealous?"

"No way, Cath." Her face fell. "Well, me and him, we're not too averse to sharin'," he joked. Catherine quickly withdrew her hand.

"Nicky, you are _gross_. I don't even care if you're _joking_." She looked over her shoulder. "I'm gonna go talk to Sara," she said, grateful for an excuse to escape.

"Hey, Sara," Catherine said, hanging back.

Sara looked up and smiled. "Hey. How are you?" She seemed preoccuppied.

"Fine, thanks. You?" She studied her face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm just thinking, that's all." She looked around her. "It's wonderful, just being here with all you guys."

"And Grissom?"

Sara tried to keep a smile from bursting across her lips. "Yeah, him especially."

"Where is he now?"

"With Jim and Warrick. He needs his guy space. I insisted."

Catherine nodded knowingly, secure in the knowledge that Grissom was not participating in the men's conversation. She flashed him a wink over her shoulder, letting him know she was on to whatever was going on. "That normally means _you_ need to space. Why can't you just tell him that?"

"Because I enjoy being around him. I don't want him to think that I'm giving him the shoulder or anything like that. I love him, but I'm not sure he understands me too well sometimes."

"Then maybe you should explain to him _why_ that is. Give him a chance. I know it's a long shot, but he may surprise you." Catherine patted her arm. "Trust me. And look at him. He wants to be with you. Jim and Warrick are killing him with macho talk."

"Yeah, that's something - you and Warrick. Care to divulge?"

Catherine grinned evasively. "Maybe when you're older." They both laughed. "Come on, rescue Spiderman from the automobile crew."

Sara smiled shly at Grissom. "Hey," she whispered.

He took her hand. "Wanna explain what that was about?"

"I'm using my unwillingness to talk as an excuse to push you away," Sara told him immediately.

"Woah, I was expecting to have to torture the truth out of you."

"Would I have enjoyed it?"

"Maybe. So, what's up?"

"Not out here, Gil. I'd rather tell you when we get back to our room. Bit more private, no-one around." She was comforted by the strength and heat of his grip.

"See, I could interpret that two ways. Either, you want sex, or there's private stuff you want to talk about."

"It could be both," Sara replied, making Grissom prick his ears up, "but it will probably be the latter."

His face fell, and he pulled her closer to his body, their feet falling in step with each other. "Okay."

"That all?"

"If you need to talk, I'm not gonna try and jump you. I have more respect for you than that."

"That's why I love you."

"Yeah, it's why _I_ love me."


	13. Chapter 13

Grissom lay in bed, waiting for Sara to finish in the bathroom. He has washed his face and cleaned his teeth and changed into his pyjamas - he felt fresh, as fresh as he would feel over the whole trip, because he knew that he would only be truly comfortable when they all returned to Vegas and got on with work. He ran a hand through his hair, and patted Sara's side of the bed as she exited the tiny ensuite. "So, you gonna come and tell me what's going on?"

Sara sidled up to the bed and slipped in beside him. "I suppose so," she answered blandly.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Honey, you know you don't have to talk if you're not ready." He nuzzled where he had kissed her with his nose, feeling her slowly soften up under his affection.

"I know that if I don't telly you some things now, I'll be thinking about them for the rest of the trip, and it'll just bug you. I'm not here to ruin your fun," she told him.

Grissom seemed horrified at the notion that she thought she _would_ be ruining his fun. "I've _never_ thought that, baby," he said, shocking them both with the term of endearment. "And I definitely don't agree that you're spoiling my fun. In fact, if I recall correctly, I've been getting rather a lot more fun than I would have done previously." The suggestion in his voice brought a smile to her lips, and he beamed as well. "See?" He rubbed her side. "Sweetheart, if you don't tell me, I can't help. And that's all I really wanna do. Be here and help. So ...". He trailed off and shrugged.

"I have bad dreams," she said.

"I know."

"But you don't know why I have them. You know, with my past." Here, he nodded. "So it's normally that, or sometimes, and I know that it's gonna sound stupid, most of the time, I dream about all the women we processed, the ones we couldn't save." Her eyes screwed up, and Grissom nodded somberly.

"I understand," he said. "It's not a big deal, and I shouldn't have blown it out of proportion," he apologised. "It's a ntural response. I still dream about that Anderson kid, about when I found his body," he confessed. "So I'm the person who should be pointing fingers." He paused, taking a breath to steady himself. "So what about before?"

"Like I said, I don't want you to think that I'm abandoning you," she murmured.

Gil laughed. "Why would I think that? Yeah, sure I pine a bit when I'm not with you, but when we're deeply invested like this, there's not much moe you can do other than put up with it. Unless you want to handcuff us together, and I think that would only be beneficial in certain areas, if you know what I mean," he added with a grin.

"I need space, Gil."

"I know. And so do I. I just wish that you felt you could tell me. I'm not gonna freak out every time you need a bit of 'you time.' You know me, I'm exactly the same."

Sara nodded in relief, realising that Catherine had been right all along. She sighed, turning to Grissom and bracing her hands on his big, wide, muscled chest. "You know, I'm glad we sorted that out," she smiled.

"Me too," Grissom replied, tracing his fingers up and down her arms.

"Shall we, uh, celebrate?"

"You want to lighten the mood?" His voice was husky, sending waves of arousal over her body.

"Sure."

She adored watching him sleep. So innocent and childlike - settled in a calm that suited him very well, but was rarely present when he was awake. No matter how patient he may have appeared, people always mistook his intensity for calm, and that was hardly the case. She reached over and ran a finger over his nose, coming to rest on the left-hand corner of his upper lip, where a cute little mole sat, now disguised by his beard.

His mouth opened, and he touched his lips to her finger. "Morning," he mumbled sleepily.

"Christ, Gil," Sara excalimed, holding a hand to her chest in shock. "You scared the hell out of me."

He smiled sheepishly, raising one hand and interlinking his fingers with hers. "Sleep well?"

"Uh huh. You?" She loved sharing a bed with him. He was big and strong and warm and secure.

His smile became even more sheepish, and a blush tinged his cheeks. "Yeah." And he loved sharing with her. Feeling her hold on to him, feeding off his warmth, needing him - he couldn't think of a more conforting feeling ... well, he could, but anyway. "Are you having a nice time?"

Sara nodded emphatically. "Yeah. It's nice ti simply be away from the lab, to have a break. I'm kinda missing work though," she added, pulling a face. "I'm not used to being this laid back and relaxed. I need constant stimulation."

Grissom, too, pulled a face. "Tell me about. It's like having a two-year old on board. Have you noticed how the dynamic's changing though? There's more equality, like people's maturation rates are all levelling out now they've had their growth spurts."

Sara touched a finger to his mouth. "Baby, no matter how sexy it is to hear you talk about bugs in Latin, you _cannot_ start referring to your staff and colleagues as though they've been impaled by pins on your office wall."

He grinned. "Okay, so I think Greg and Nick have matured a lot more. Warrick was always on the way, and he's achieved it too. And him and Catherine ...".

"Oh, _those_ two. Yup, they've definitely fallen for each other. So we're not the only lovebirds. I'm just glad Jim's enjoying himself too." She struggled to sit up, holding the duvet cover up to her chest. "I didn't know how he'd feel about fitting in. No offence, 'cause I really like him, and Cath too, and I know they're your friends and all but ...," she trailed off.

Grissom propped his head up with one hand. "Yes?" he asked, partially amused.

"Do you ever find them too much? Or too little? Cath knows too much, and you and Brass have that unspoken guy thing going on, but do you think they really understand you and what drives you?"

He reached out and held one of the hands clutching at the duvet. "Honey, _ I_ don't truly understand me and my urges. I've got a pretty good understanding, and I'd like to think that in you I've found a kindred spirit, a soulmate if you will, but they're my friends. They seem to be very good at pointing out when I need 'to lift my head out of the microscope.' As are you. But they're good for when I want to forget about me, I suppose." He shrugged indifferently. "I don't know if that came out right."

"I know what you mean," she answered. They exchanged a glance as they heard a knock at their door.

"I'll go," Gil said. "I have less to put on to cover myself," he added, grinning. "Coming!" he yelled, pulling on his pair of discarded boxer shorts. "Jim, what can I do for you?"

Brass cleared his throat. "You know I wouldn't knock and encroach on your personal turf out here."

"But?"

"Last night," he said with great difficulty, turning red. "The walls are thin Gil, I could hear everything."

"Shit Jim, I'm sorry. We didn't even think." Grissom turned to Sara and grimaced.

"Don't worry about it, I'm glad you were enjoying yourselves. I thought I'd better warn you in case anyone else hears. Warrick was asleep, snoring, he didn't hear anything. But Catherine's on the other side, and you know what she's like." He stared at his hands. "I just thought I should ...".

"It's cool, Jim, thanks for letting us know." Grissom shut the door, finding it very hard to keep from laughing.

"Oh, we are _so_ busted. Maybe you'd better gag me next time."

"What? And miss kissing your delectable mouth? I think not. We'll just have to come up with something else," he said, smirking.


	14. Chapter 14

SORRY ABOUT THE GIMP MASK QUIP, I COULDN'T HELP IT. OH, AND TO THOSE OF YOU NOT ON YTDAW, THE 'CRASS' REFERENCE WAS SOMETHING KESTIN STEWART (I THINK) MADE ABOUT THE NON-EXISTENT BRASS AND CATHERINE 'SHIP.

"So." Catherine sat at the breakfast table, reading a paper and drinking a cup of coffee.

Grissom raised an eyebrow as he bit into his toast. "So wha'?" he asked, spraying crumbs at Catherine.

"You two. Last night." Much to her suprise, Gil just shrugged.

"My, what big ears you have," he commented dryly.

"Hey, I haven't got big ears. You've got loud voices, thin walls and a creaking bed. Not. My. Fault," she reiterated. She caught Grissom's hurt look. "Gil, I'm not judging you. At all. Me and Eddie? Jeez, we were the same."

"I don't really need to know," Grissom told her, grimacing.

"No, Gil, you don't. I'm just trying to illustrate my point. I'm happy for you both. God knows you deserve it. But take others into consideration as well." She shot him a glance over the rim of her mug, it becoming obvious to her that he didn't really care.

"What, would you rather Sara and I gagged each other?"

Catherine choked on her coffee. "I don't wanna know about your ... procilivities Gil, I'm your friend, not your therapist."

"Firstly, do you honestly think I'd share my _proclivities _with _you_? Secondly, it feels like you're my therapist, the way you go on sometimes." He stood up. "I'm gonna go check on Sara, see if she's managed to untie herself from the bedposts and pull off her gimp mask yet," he said, shooting Catherine a grin over shoulder.

"Fu-neeee," Catherine retorted.

The group decided to split up during the days when events weren't on, and only met up primarily in the evenings when they set out to venues - although it was nice to be with one another, it was also nice to have some independence. However, they shared a meal on the last night in Monterrey, knowing that it would be a long drive to Anaheim the next day. There were no events on that night, so they all walked to a restaurant on the marina.

Catherine nudged Brass. "You hear those two last night?" she asked, nodding in the general direction of Grissom and Sara, who were accompanied by Greg. Nick and Warrick were off to the side of the group, sharing stories. They all took their seats.

Brass nodded. "Yup. Knocked and told them about it this morning. Gil was cool enough about it."

"You're tellin' me. I pulled him up on it at breakfast, he couldn't care less. Actually threw a couple of innuendo-filled comments my way."

"Poor thing, must have scarred you," Brass commented wryly, smiling nevertheless. "I'm happy for 'em. And I suppose it's good to see that he's still ... functioning." Brass shrugged.

"Maybe, but I need my beauty sleep."

"Ask Warrick to help. Help you fall asleep," he explained, receiving a scornful gaze from the blonde.

"Excuse me? How do you even _know_ I like Warrick? Second thoughts, don't answer that. It's bad enough having those two lovebirds drooling over each other, I'm not giving you guys another couple." Yet when Warrick glanced over to Jim and Cath, she flashed him a beautiful grin.

"My point exactly," Jim muttered. "Seems to me, you're just jealous 'cause _you're_ not seein' any action. And anyways, they're not exactly _drooling_. Yeah, they're affectionate, put they ain't givin' us any public displays of affection."

Catherine flashed another smile, this time without warmth behind her eyes. "One more thing outta you, and you'll be floatin' in the bottom of the marina. I know how to get rid of bodies without being found."

Jim shrugged good naturedly. "Fine."

Catherine simply growled.

In the middle of the meal, Grissom excused himself to go to the toilet, and Greg leaned over to Sara. "How's things going with you two?" he asked.

Sara eyed him suspiciously. After Brass knocking, and Grissom telling her about the run-in with Catherine, she was beginning to think that maybe the other CSIs were being informed of certain things. "We're fine, thanks. Enjoying the trip," she added.

"Good. I'm glad you two have finally sorted out your differences. You really suit each other. Besides, if I can't have you, you might as well have the only other decent guy around here," he joked.

"I appreciate that Greg," she said, smiling.

"Hey, you're my friend. Why wouldn't I be happy for you? You've always stood up for me, always had my back. I appreciate _that_."

"Appreciate what?" Grissom asked, returning to the table. He kissed Sara's cheek as he sat down, reaching for his wine glass. "You haven't been giving out sexual favours, have you?" he asked as he lifted the glass to his lips, the corner of his mouth turning up.

"Well, actually, there's something I wanted to confess. I want you, Greg and me to have a threesome," she spluttered, failing to keep her giggles under control.

"Really?" Grissom tried to act surprised. "God, I'm _so_ glad you asked. I wanted us to do that, but I didn't know how you'd react." He winked at Greg, then started shaking with laughter. Pretty soon, the laughter spread through the whole table, even to Nick, Warrick, Jim and Catherine, who had no idea of what was so amusing.

The walk back to the hotel was carried out in companionable silence, the dark skies glittering with stars. "Look," Sara whispered to Grissom, squeezing his hand with hers.

"What?"

"Warrick and Catherine." Gil and Sara were at the back of the group, Nick, Greg and Jim walking at the immediate front. Warrick and Catherine were sandwiched between the two groups, and could only be seen by Grissom and Sara. Catherine was leaning into Warrick's side, and he had put his arm around her.

Gil smiled. "Cute," he murmured, pulling Sara closer. He enjoyed being at liberty to hold her hand, to hold her and kiss her and tell her how pretty she was.

"Yeah. But I was thinking more along the lines of ammunition. Wonder who's gonna be sleeping where tonight," she added, a slight malicious joy in her words.

"Honey, lay off with the _schadenfreude_, it's not becoming. But I undertsand where you're coming from." It was hard to see his evil grin in the moonlight.

"Sara, you here that?" Grissom had been woken up by a _thump_ sound, and after laying still for a minute or two, had managed to decipher its origin.

The brunette thing next to him stirred. "Hm? Wha', honey? Unless you wanna kiss, let me go back to sleep."

"It's Warrick and Catherine," he whispered excitedly.

"How do you know? Could be Catherine and Brass."

"That's just crass," Grissom chided, holding a hand over his mouth to fight off another attack of the giggles. "Seriously."

Sara sleepily pivoted herself away from Grissom's warm body, and propelled herself out of the bed. Approaching the wall backing on to Catherine's room, she motioned for Gil to join her. They pressed their ears against the wall, and could here muffled cries and assorted noises. They shared a glance.

"Either someone's watching porn in there, or they really are ..." Grissom trailed off, making the appropriate sex gestures with his hands. Sara snorted, and he put a finger to his lips. He slammed the palm of his hand against the wall three times.

"Go away, we're trying to have sex," came the angry female - Catherine - voice. They could hear Warrick cursing.

"Yeah, so are we," Grissom called back, watching Sara dissolve into a fit on the floor. "Unlike you, we gagged each other, consideration for others, you know? Kindly do the same," he finished, creasing up. He held his hands out to Sara, helping her up from her giggling fit. Cupping her cheek, he brought his mouth to hers. "You're so adorable when you're happy," he commented.

Sara reciprocated. "And you're sexy when you get all ...". She waved her hands, gesturing to his prior performance. "Come on, babe, we should get some sleep." She dropped one final kiss to his lips, and led him back to the bed.


	15. Chapter 15

"Someone looks like they didn't get enough sleep last night," Grissom quipped upon seeing Catherine slumped at the breakfast table. "Hope we didn't keep you up," he added, grinning slyly.

Trying very hard to keep her head from drooping into her bowl of cereal, Catherine did her best to shoot him a death glare. "Oh, ha. Ha. Ha. You're so damn funny, you could probably win an award. Anyway, I thought you two were engaged in a similar activity. Where _is _Sara, by the way?" She reached for an espresso cup, allowing the nitroglycerin-like caffeine to surge through her body.

"We weren't, we were taking the piss. And if you thought you were going to give us a taste of our own medicine, it didn't work. We both sleep like the dead. Looks like your plan back-fired." His expression softened. "Are you and Warrick ... seeing each other?"

Catherine nodded, smiling bashfully. "Yeah."

Grissom returned the smile and reached over, patting her hand. "I'm happy for the both of you."

"So, where's Sara?"

"She went to get some supplies with Nicky and Greg. You noticed how those two seem to have matured?" Grissom sat back and drained his coffee, feeling immensely satisfied with himself on so many levels. Happy workers, nice holiday, beautiful lover, excellent sex life ... the list was endless.

"You mean Nick and Greggo? Yeah, I see what you mean. Nicky's alway's gonna have that naive streak, the green part of him, in a good way, but he's become a lot wiser to things. He's grown up, he's not so brash. And Greg? I gotta admit, he's not the annoying lab tech I always figured him for." She checked her watch. "We leave in half an hour, I'm gonna go and make sure I've got everything."

"How's things with Grissom?" Nick was carrying two bags, as were Sara and Greg. The bags were filled with supplies for the next leg to Disneyland - batteries for MP3 players, magazines, drinks, food - everything to make the trip as comfortable as possible.

Sara smiled inadvertently. "They're good, yeah."

Nick grinned. "You know we're all happy for ya, right? It's nice to see two people who belong together finally pull their heads outta their asses."

"Nicky, my darling, my head has _never_ been up my ass. It was Gil."

Greg shifted the bags in his hands. "Not something you should really be saying about your partner, is it?"

Sara shrugged, partly out of discomfort, partly out of neither agreement nor disagreement. "Maybe not, but he admitted it to me enough times when we first hooked up. I know we've had our problems, and we're both equally to blame, so whenever one of us apologises for it, the other reminds us that there's no _completely_ innocent party."

They fell silent as they neared the hotel, and Sara was itching to inform someone other than Grissom about what they had heard last night, but knew it would be neither fair nor right. She would rather speak to Catherine about it, and see whether or not the blonde would be willing to have her news broadcast around the group.

"Hey, Cath," Sara called after she, Nick and Greg had unpacked the bags in the minivan.

"What?"

"Oooh," Sara laughed as she saw the dark rings around her friends eyes. "Up all night, were we?"

"Yeah, unlike you and Bugman there, you little liars." Catherine scowled good-naturedly.

"Is that the best insult you can come up with?" She grinned. "So, did you have fun?"

Catherine's expression became midly-affronted. "Excuse me?"

"Yep, looks, and sounds, like you did. Hey, I'm just yankin' your chain," she explained. "I'm sure Gil's aready said that it's good you two are finally ... doin' whatever it is you're doing. Aside from each other," she added.

That did it. Catherine, who had made a commendable effort to remain straight-faced, burst out laughing. "Man, I haven't seen you this funny in years. Looks like you and Gil really _are_ happy. But to answer your ... question, yes, we are happy. There's been signs for a while, we just wanted to be sure that it was the right thing for the both of us to do."

"I take it that it is," Sara inquired, relieved that she and Gil wouldn't be the only loved-up couple on the trip. Maybe if the CSIs had something else to focus on, it would take the pressure off her and Grissom a bit.

"It sure is. And I'm sure you gathered that from last night," Catherine added, winking and smiling.

"Don't wanna go there," Sara mumbled.

"Oh, Gil didn't seem to mind doing that yesterday morning."

"I'll kill him if he's been ... oh, there he is." Sara put her hand out and touched Catherine's sleeve. "Excuse me," she said, faux-sweetly, heading for the unsuspecting Grissom.

"Hey, honey," he smiled, unaware that he might be on the end of an earful.

"Don't you dare use any form of endearment until I've gotten a straight answer from you," she hissed, dragging him from the hotel foyer to the elevator.

"Uh, what have I done, now?" he stammered, his brow knitting.

Sara pressed the button to the lift, pulled him inside, and hit the button for their floor. "What the hell did you tell Catherine about us?"

It dawned on Grissom that she was referring to the conversation they'd had the previous morning. He smiled in attempt to appease her, and ignored her little ruling. "Sweetheart, she asked us to keep the noise down. I simply joked that we'd gag each other next time, then left, saying that I'd make sure you'd untied yourself from the bedposts and taken your gimp mask off." He watched Sara's expression turn from angry, to shocked, to a huge grin.

"I honestly think you didn't have that sort of kinky streak in you," she praised.

Grissom raised an eyebrow in surprise. "After some of the things we say and get up to? My God, you really are innocent," he said in mock-surprise. He pressed her up against the wall of the elevator, a wicked grin on his face.

She flashed him a beautiful smile, pressing her body to his in a hug. "Guess you'll have to corrupt me a bit more, then, won't you?" she whispered in his ear, sending shivers through his body.

The elevator pinged open, but they didn't pull away quickly enough. "Ahem." Warrick cleared his throat.

Blushing, Grissom stepped away, holding his hand out for Sara to take. "Have a nice time last night?" he called as the elevator door closed, separating them from Warrick, and thus any kind of retort.

"Kinky streak, yes, but it stops at making love in public," Grissom said, leading her to their hotel room to pick up the rest of their belongings.


	16. Chapter 16

THIS ISN'T SO MUCH OF A SONG CHAPTER AS A WISH THAT I HAD TO FIT JEFF BUCKLEY IN HERE SOMEWHERE - I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS SONG, AND I REALLY FEEL THAT IT HAS A GSR QUALITY TO IT. DEDICATED TO ALL MY WONDERFUL MINIONS.

Warrick flashed Grissom and Sara a knowing grin back at mini-bus. He had not been surprised by what he had seen, despite the other CSIs being a little unnerved by the relationship. Yes, Grissom and Sara should have been together, and indeed were, but even though the CSIs knew this, it had still caught them off guard when they had begun to spot the tell-tale signals - secretive glances, shared smiles, personal space violations, flirty comments. They suited each other, Warrick reflected. Both were private, and far too intelligent to be understood by anyone else - they were equal, and from what Catherine had told him, equal in more than one area. Ah, Catherine. He didn't know how _that_ had happened, suffice to say that it had, and he wasn't regretting it.

"Hey." Catherine sidled up beside him, and touched his hand discreetly.

"Oh, hey," he replied, smiling at the contact. "How are you this morning?"

Catherine bit back her smile. "Tired. You?"

"Oh, I'm good. Last night - will there be another one? Just so I know, 'cause I ...".

"If you want there to be another one, that's cool with me," Catherine answered, taken aback by his openness.

Sara rested her head on Grissom's shoulder and closed her eyes. He nudged her. "What?" she grunted.

"What you listening to?" he asked, slipping an arm around her.

"Jeff Buckley. Can I go to sleep please?"

"Mind if I share an ear?" He looked down at adorable head perched on his shoulder. She looked so adorable that he contemplated buying a tube of superglue and affixing her head there permanently.

Sara pulled one earphone from her ear and slapped it into his hand.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he whispered, squeezing her side gently.

"Tired. I wanna sleep," she grumbled.

He pressed a kiss to her temple. "Okay. My shoulder comfy enough for you?" He shifted slightly, allowing her to lean into his body more easily. Greg had volunteered to take the first driving shift, and Brass was sitting chatting to him. Catherine was curled up on the back seat, and Nick and Warrick were chatting amiably.

"Uh huh," came the sleepy reply. Sara closed her eyes again.

Grissom listened to the voice echoing in his left ear. It was a guy singing, for sure, but it was a feminine male, a voice that could reach high places with ease. Grissom recalled that he had heard Sara playing this song before, it was, if he remembered correctly, _Lover, You Should Have Come Over_. He closed his eyes and leaned back.

_Looking out the door, I see the rain fall upon the funeral mourners._

_Parading in a wake of sad relations, as their shoes fill up with water._

_Well, maybe I'm too young to keep good love from going wrong,_

_But tonight, you're on my mind, so you'll never know_

_Broken down and hungry for your love, with no way to feed it._

_Where are you tonight, child, you know how much I need it._

_Too young to hold on, and too old to just break free and run._

_Sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun._

_Much too blind to see the damage he's done, but sometimes a man must awake to find that really_

_He has no-one._

_So I'll wait for you, and I'll burn, will I ever see your sweet return?_

_Oh, will I ever learn?_

_Oh, lover, you should have come over._

_'Cause it's not too late._

_Lonely is the room, the bed is made, the open window lets the rain in._

_Burning in the corner, is the only who wishes he had you with him._

_My body turns, and yearns for a sleep that won't ever come._

_It's never over._

_My knigdom for a kiss upon her shoulder._

_It's never over, _

_all my riches, for her smiles, when I slept so soft against her._

_It's never over,_

_all my blood for the sweetness of her laughter._

_It's never over,_

_She's the tear that hangs inside my soul forever._

_Well, maybe I'm just too young, to keep good love from going wrong._

_Oh, lover you should have come over._

_I feel too young to hold, and I'm much too old to break free and run,_

_Too deaf dumb and blind to see the damage I've done._

He opened his eyes upon feeling a tear running down his cheek. He had never listened to the song the whole way through, but listening to the lyrics - he wondered if Sara had listened to it all those years ago, when he spurned her. To think of her thinking of him like that, it wasn't a pleasant sensation. Looking around the bus, he made sure no-one had seen his single tear, and pulled Sara into his arms even more. She rumbled appreciatively, and he smiled.

Nick and Warrick looked over at the pair. "They actually go really well together. I never saw it in my head, they just seemed so incompatible," Nick commented.

His friend shrugged his shoulders languidly. "I guess. But she wanted to go to the body farm, she never minded about the blood in the fridge. She's always backed him up. And she's waited for him. Let's face it, he hasn't exactly been quick on the uptake."

"Yeah, but you can tell he's affected by her. Wouldn't let her near the house in the Marlin case. How many times has he tried to pull her off stressful cases? How many times has he gotten jealous? He was bitten years ago, he just never noticed. Or he did, and he was too scared to do anything."

Warrick studied his friend curiously. "How did you pick up on all that stuff? I knew he didn't like it when she dated Hank, but that was it, as far as I was concerned."

"Does it matter, man? They're together, that's what's important." Nicky looked out the window for a second and then returned his gaze back to Warrick. "So, what about you and Catherine?"

Warrick's eyes expanded. "Who told you? What exactly have you heard?"

Nick laughed. "Aw, come on man. You've had the hots for each other since day one. And I haven't heard anything. _Anything_," he repeated.

Warrick knew that meant no-one had spilled about the night before then, a great weight from his shoulders. "We're just starting out, testing the water, if you like. See how it goes."

"Hey, I'm happy for you. You deserve to be happy. And so does she. And Lindsay," Nick added.

"You got anyone else you wanna add to that list?" Warrick questioned.

"Me. Greg. Brass." Nick shrugged. "Everyone here deserves to be happy."


	17. Chapter 17

"Aw, c'mon, it's DisneyLand! Please, Sara, humour me. I'm feeling horny." Grissom had his arms wrapped around Sara's waist as she stood at their hotel room basin brushing her teeth. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to her neck, trying his best to distract her.

"Gri-iss," came Sara's voice, mock-chiding. "Not here."

"Why not?" he inquired, hands moving into places that wouldn't have been entirely appropriate in public.

"We're at DisneyLand," she murmured through a mouthful of toothpaste.

"And? I just said that."

"For some reason, I have an issue with indulging in several of our hobbies in a place that's meant for children. It's ... creepy."

Grissom lifted his head from nuzzling her neck and regarded her in the mirror. "You can't be serious," he said in disbelief.

Sara looked at his reflection and shrugged, rubbing her ass against him. She saw him wince. "Yup."

"And you keep trying to arouse me."

"Yup."

Grissom smiled wickedly. "Y'know, my darling, you should really be careful. If you get me going too much, I might just have no option left but to carry you over to that bed, whether you like it or not."

Sara rubbed against him some more. "Oh, trust me, I'd _love_ it," she enthused. "And it's just as hard for me, trying to resist your masculine charms. It just doesn't feel right."

Grissom squeezed her waist and kissed her one last time. "Okay. You know I'm only joking, don't you? I respect your wishes fully." Sara turned to him and cupped his cheek, nodding. "But if I hear that Catherine and Warrick got some action tonight, you're for it, baby," he muttered

"And I shall look forward to it," she told him, winking. "But you'll need all your energy for the rides," she reminded him.

"You're one of them."

She slapped his arm lightly. "For that, you can sleep in here, on your own. I get the bed." She waltzed past him and claimed the bed for herself. "Night night," she called sweetly, waving at Gil/

He squared his shoulders and stalked softly from the bathroom into the main hotel room. "Nuh uh," he disagreed. His eyes sparkled dangerously.

Sara felt a shiver fill her body, a throb between her legs. Oh, she wanted to get to know _this_ Grissom, the forceful one, the one who _wasn't_ polite and gentle. She wanted the raw animal in him, wanted him to ravage her completely and utterly. She knew that, apart from on rollercoasters, the bedroom was probably the only place he could truly be himself, and he still wasn't opening himself up. She so desperately wanted him to be himself, to show her his _true_ colours. "Come on then," she taunted.

He blinked in surprise, and grinned, sensing that she was probably wanted him right there and then. "Second thoughts, I've changed my mind." He watched her groan in frustration. He sidled up to the bed and slipped in next to her, resting his arm on her waist. "Wouldn't want to corrupt this place, would we?" He dropped his head on her shoulder and fell asleep.

Sara settled back into his chest and closed her eyes, thinking, not sleeping. She still didn't fully understand him, or his drives. She could quite easily cater to his needs - despite him being enigmatic, she had always been pretty spot on in predicting what he wanted. But she wanted to understand him on a deeper level, to know his life force. She felt that she owed that much to him. But most of all, she wanted to know why he was preventing himself from opening up.

"Sleep well?" Grissom had gotten up before Sara, and had just exited the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Sara was sitting up in bed facing him.

"Yeah, thanks. You?" He nodded. "Good." Silence. This was going to be hard. "Why did you change your mind last night?"

Grissom shrugged. "Don't know. Tease you, perhaps? Felt like being a little cruel," he added.

"Nothing new, there," she said, slightly biting.

"Meaning?" He ran a hand through his wet hair, shaking the excess water from it.

"Meaning, you've always been a tease, a bit cruel," she spat out, her usually-warm eyes cool.

"Oh, this is one of those days, is it?" he asked. The mood had changed very quickly, and he knew he'd probably done something to piss her off. "What's wrong?"

Sara's eyes widened in mock innocence. "Oh, nothing. Nothing's wrong."

"You know, considering _I'm_ the one who was knocked back last night, I should be the one in a pissy mood," he retorted. He wasn't making things better, but he was going to damned if he was to apologise. When she had drifted off to sleep, he'd gotten out of bed and taken matters into his own hands, so to speak. He hadn't wanted to do so, but he thought it would disrespctful for him to lie there with certain body parts poking in her spine.

"You were the one who didn't want to be in the same bed after you thought I'd gone to sleep. You were the one who changed your mind." And please let us welcome our special guest for the evening, mister self-destructive behaviour. Why the hell did she always feel the need to provoke situations. "Your hand better company than me?"

"I was frustrated," Grissom snapped in reply. "I didn't want you to go to sleep with me digging in your back."

Sara's expression softened. "All you had to do was ask," she chided him, smiling. "I would have perhaps made some concessions."

Grissom shook his head. "You'd made it clear. I'm not going to force the issue," he said simply.

"Maybe you should."

"What?"

"Maybe you should take the situation by the throat and force it. Let it out. Don't be so fucking courteous. Maybe I want you to grab me regardless of what I say. Maybe I want you to carry me to the bed and dive right in."

"And maybe I don't do that because I don't wanna hurt you. Me forcing you wouldn't be love. It would be rape, and that's an offence. One I'm not partial to committing."

"But it's not _you_. I can tell that sometimes you just wanna fuck me," she said. She smiled at his horror. "I don't care," she said unashamedly. "I'm not using civilised language because this is not the time or place. Sometimes I look into your eyes, or I can feel the way your hands grab me, or the way your mouth touches me, or the way your frame moves - some nights you don't want intimacy. You want control." She saw him squirm uncomfortably, and she slid out from under the sheets, slinking towards him, legs and hips like liquid. She rested her hands on his towel-wrapped ass and pulled him close. "Baby, I'm fine with you wanting to be rough."

"It's dangerous," Grissom choked, squeezing his eyes closed. "_I'm _dangerous. If I wasn't careful, I could hurt you."

"Maybe we need a controlled environment, then."

"You're not seriously suggesting?" He trailed off, looking at her brown orbs. Oh, shitting hell, she was. "No way. I may have my quirks, but I'm not into BDSM," he said firmly.

"Honey, it's not to do with _that_," Sara emphasised. "We could just have a codeword, or a signal, and if I felt you were getting out of control, I'd use to bring you to heel."

Grissom cupped both her cheeks with his hand. "You don't understand," he complained. "Once I lose control, that's it. No-one can control me, not even myself."

Sara nodded resignedly. "Just think about it," she asked. She kissed his cheek. "I'll get showered and then meet all you guys downstairs, okay?"

Grissom copied her movement. "I love you," he sighed.

"I love you too," she smiled, releasing him. "Get some clothes on before you freeze," she told him, face drooping slightly in sadness.


	18. Chapter 18

Sara didn't immediately seek out Grissom when she went to meet him and the others in the downstairs foyer. She instead began chatting to Brass and Catherine, leaving Grissom with Greg.

"She not checking in with ya?" Greg questioned.

Grissom supressed the urge to spit out a nasty comment and shrugged laconically. "She doesn't have to come to me every minute of the day," he informed Greg. "She has her own life, her own friends. I'm not the only person she's allowed to speak to," he added.

Greg lifted his knowingly. "Ri-ight," he muttered sceptically. Grissom shot him a glance. "C'mon, Grissom, I know her. If she wants her own space, she goes off on her own. Aside from that, she wants to be around you. She only goes and initiates conversation with others if she's particularly bubbly that day, or she's trying to provoke a reaction."

"Would you like to live to become a CSI?" Grissom growled. "Please don't apply the necessary skills to inappropriate situations." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "I'm not used to this whole dating saga," he confessed. "By God, I love her, but I'm still getting over that whole 'I'm actually in a relationship with her.'" He pulled a face. "I'm sad, aren't I?"

Greg was astounded. He had never expected his boss to go after and finally get Sara, hadn't expected him to have _feelings_, never mind talk to _him_, a lowly lab rat, about said feelings. "Don't you normally talk to Jim about these things?" he asked tentatively.

"I don't normally talk to anyone about feelings except Sara." He took a deep breath, and managed to catch Sara's eye over Warrick's head. She smiled at him, and he turned to Greg slightly. "Thank you for waiting throught that," he said self-deprecatingly. He walked over to Sara, returning the smile with a hint of tenderness.

"Hey," she said, raising her eyebrows to Jim and Cath, leaving their little circle.

"Hey." Grissom put a hand on the small of her back, an excuse to move closer to her. "I'm sorry about before," he apologised.

"Nothing to be sorry for," she said plainly, wishing he wasn't going to start this again.

"There's plenty to be sorry for, and I'll go over every goddamn reason that I'm sorry later on. And then, if you'll let me, I'll make it up to you," he added, whispering in her ear.

"Okay, I've changed my mind," Sara joked, leaning into his side. "But now ... let's just forget about it. Let's just have fun."

"I couldn't agree more," Grissom smiled, hoping they weren't attracting too much attention from their colleagues.

"How was your first day at DisneyLand, then?" Grissom called. He was lying on their bed, his hands behind his head, waiting for Sara to finish up in the bathroom.

Sara sashayed in, wearing nothing but lingerie, and she caught Grissom's smirk. "Full of queues. I haven't been on theme park rides for years, I'd forgotten what it was like." She came over and straddled Grissom, and he sat up, resting his hands on his waist.

"It should be better tomorrow," he said. He lifted his head to meet her eyes. "So, I guess it's time for an explanation."

"You don't have to do this."

Grissom put a finger to her lips. "You're not getting out of it that easily," he told her. "You wanted to know, and I'm gonna tell you. It's the least I can do. So please don't interrupt me, hon," he requested. She gave a tiny nod, and Grissom sighed. "I'm reluctant to be heavy-handed 'cause ... 'cause I just am. I don't want to hurt you, and I know that given such a chance, I could. And that bothers me."

"Have you ever had the chance to find out?" Sara asked, regardless of the finger over her lips.

"Not in a bedroom scenario," he admitted. "But there's been one or two times when I've flipped. Hard. And there's stuff I know about my parents. My father was hot-headed, he could do a lot of damage. Years after my father died, when I was old enough to understand, she explained why they got divorced. He could be forceful."

Sara nodded in realisation. "And you're wondering 'Like father like son.' If you're thinking _that_, surely it's an indication that you're _not_."

"I wouldn't like to find out, or be proved wrong. I can't be hard or harsh, at least not like that," he said truthfully.

"But I can tell you're still not _truly_ satisfied in bed. You're not fully giving of yourself, and that bothers me somewhat. Couldn't we try it? Just once? Let out that primal streak. If it helps, I'll sign a waiver," she laughed nervously.

Grissom's face remained sober. One hand splayed across the middle of her back, the other lower down at the base of her spine. "Don't joke, honey." He closed his eyes and let out a ragged breath. "I can't tell you how tempting your offer is."

"Then be tempted," came her throaty voice. She shifted herself against him appropriately, feeling a surge of liquid heat be transferred from her body to his. She felt his hands tighten along with his chest and his breath.

"Oh, Sara," he rasped.

"Go on. Take me. Tie me down to the bed and fuck me like you know you want to," she pleaded, grinding against him some more.

In a flash, he had reversed the roles. He flipped her onto her back, one hand pinning her wrists above her head, the other sliding between her legs. He stared her square in the eyes. "You sure you want this?"

She nodded submissively. "Yes."

That was all the encouragement he needed.

"You okay?" He nuzzled her ear.

"Warrick, is that you?" Catherine shifted in her sleep.

"Yeah," he said, pulling her into a hug.

"Fine. You? What woke you up?"

"Guess."

Catherine sat bolt upright and pulled away. "Them? Again?" Warrick nodded. "That's it. I'm knocking on their damn door. I need sleep."

Warrick wisely kept his mouth shut, not reminding her of _their _behaviour before.

"Oh, God, oh, harder," Sara pleaded. Her movements were stilled by a knock at the door, and her hips bucked involuntarily.

"Ignore it," Grissom whispered in her ear. "Go away!" he yelled in the direction of the door. "We're busy." His hand tightened around Sara's wrists, his rhythym hard and unrelenting.

"Gil, you woke us up," Catherine called.

"Unless you wanna wake the whole goddamn corridor, I suggest you LEAVE US ALONE!" He heard her stalk across the carpet and slam her bedroom door shut.

Sara reached out and touched the sleeping figure before her. How peaceful in sleep. How gentle and innocent, totally unlike last night. Oh, last night. _That_ was amazing. He had been exaggerating. Oh, he was rough, but in exactly the right way, using it to exert exactly the right amount of pressure. She remembered how concerned he was when they finished, repeatedly asking if she was okay, brushing her hair from her face, kissing her softly, holding her body against him tenderly. She allowed herslef to trace a hand over his sleeping form. He grunted.

"What time is it?" he murmured groggily.

"Early, sweetheart," she whispered. "Got a few more hours' sleep."

"Mmm. Good. How about you? You good?"

"Oh, much, _much_ better than good," she replied affirmatively.

"I didn't hurt you? Didn't scare you?"

"Not one bit, babe."

"Good."

"Gil?"

"Yeah?"

"I trust you," she said simply.

He felt his heart melt. It was just as important as the other three-word phrase that they uttered. "And I trust you."

"Go back to sleep."


	19. Chapter 19

YES, I KNOW A LOT OF THIS IS PROBABLY OOC, BUT IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE A REPLICATION OF THE SHOW - I JUST WANNA HAVE A LAUGH WITH THIS ONE.

"I'm not even talking to you," Catherine snarled as the group walked to catch one of the buses that shipped people from the hotel to the theme park.

"Fine. But you could have started _that_ stance last night," Grissom replied.

"I just can't believe you," she sighed in exasperation. "Gil, you are a pain in the ass. You've woken us up twice with all your mad rabbit sex," she complained.

"Oh, so it's okay for _you_ to bonk like mad, but when Sara and I want to make love, you get on our backs." He looked over his shoulder to Sara, motioning with his eyes for her to come and join them. She sidled up, and he automatically reached for her hand.

"This about last night?" Sara asked brightly. She was feeling fulfilled, even more so than she had done before. "We're sorry, we really, are Cath." She took in Catherine's sceptical glance. "But I was trying to prove a point."

"What? That you two make more noises than rhinos mating?"

Grissom spluttered. "I hardly think that's an accurate representation of us in bed." He frowned in amusement. "I can't even believe that I'm talking about this in front of _one_ woman, never mind _two_."

Sara grinned. "We weren't that loud, Cath. I think what you heard was just the bed. The springs are a bit funny."

Catherine winced. "I am going to go and find someone else to talk to. Someone who won't squick me out with the details of their sex life."

Gil and Sara shared a smile as Catherine waltzed off to act prima donna to the rest of the group. "You think we were excessive last night?" Gil asked, genuinely interested.

"No, I don't. Then again, I had the most wonderful night last night, so I'm hardly going to see eye to eye with Cath, am I? I mean, if she wants to get back at us, all she has to do is bonk Warrick."

Grissom laughed, a delightful sound that was rarely heard - even after living with him for a relatively long time, it wasn't a sound that graced Sara ears often. She leaned into his side and he put an arm around her waist, his hand resting on her hip. "She does. We were privy to that, or have you forgotten? But I suppose hearing two of your colleagues ... doing things ... it must be a slight gross out."

"It's a good thing we didn't give her a blow by blow account of our ... encounter."

"Sweetheart, I think that's only something safe for a bedroom." He caught Catherine's eye and gave her a little wave.

Sara noted his actions, and smiled a bit. "I think I've let out the beast," she commented. "You're going to antagonise. Then again, it's not like you didn't do it before."

"Maybe, but my antagonisms were previously unintentional. This time, I'm goin' for the jugular." He gave her one of his evil smiles, a smile that sent shivers to the most intimate part of her body and psyche.

"God, you really _weren't_ lying. You're _dangerous_."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet."

"I can't believe we didn't do this yesterday," Greg said, staring at the very long queue for Splash Mountain. "Got the goods for us on this, Grissom?" The group had split into three - Warrick and Catherine had gone off together, as had Brass and Nick, and Greg had tagged on to Gil and Sara

"Practically a vertical, fifty-foot drop," Sara commented languidly. "No safety harness, just a wooden log." She flashed her diastema.

Greg shrugged with his mouth, obviously impressed. "Cool. So, he's rubbing off on you?"

Grissom's face took on a clueless expression, and Sara pursed her lips in thought. "You might wanna rephrase that, otherwise you could possibly get more information thatn Catherine." The couple watched his face freeze and then drop.

Grissom smiled. "Or do you already know? Has Cath been bitching to everyone?"

"She may have mentioned something briefly. I think she has the idea of filming you two and making it into a video just so that you'll stop. You know, shame you two into celibacy." He smiled nervously.

"Why'd we have to get stuck with him?" Grissom's voice took on an uncharacteristic whine.

"Actually, thanks for that, Greg. We could always get evidence of Catherine and Warrick." Sara smiled hopefully.

"And to think, I only came here to enjoy a few rollercoasters." Grissom rolled his eyes.

"No way babe, you gotta put up with the whole infantile behaviour."

"May I remind you that you two were involved in the _only_ prank that happened here - the black marker pen? Hmm?"

Grissom and Sara shared a guilty look. They all leaned against one of the low walls, waiting their turn for the log flume.

"Another enjoyble day," Sara commented, sipping her wine. She and Grissom had ordered room service - pasta, salad and wine. "You think we're all getting on?" There was only one person, maybe two, out of all the guys there that she had never argued with - Greg and Jim. Both were closer friends to her than Catherine, Warrick and Nick, and, at point, even Grissom. She knew that if anything ever happened between the two of them, the lab rat and the detective would always be there.

"Indeed," Grissom agreed contemplatively. He reclined back against the pillows and regarded the empty plate on his lap. "We're getting along with one another better than I thought we might have done. I'm just happy that things seem to be going all without a hitch, for once," he added, sneaking a sideways glance at Sara.

She regarded him out the corner of her eye. "We seem to be saying that a lot - we're happy or we're glad, or people are happy or glad for us."

Grissom shrugged. "Still, I wouldn't wanna put you in a compromising position. Not with your friends, anyway," he added with a naughty grin.

"Oh, I'm not falling for your rough charms again while we're here," she said with total conviction. "I'm sure we could save ourselves for Ventura. Or San Francisco."

"Ventura, please. I couldn't wait for San Francisco. I'm a man. I have needs," he reminded.

"Well I'll give you something to nurture those needs," she whispered huskily. She saw him swallow, and smiled. "Me, lying on a beach, in my bikini, and if you're lucky, maybe you can apply my sun-tan lotion." Her smile widened at the look on his face, and she cleared the dishes from the bed, stacking them in a neat pile on the bedside table. "Sweet dreams," she murmured, going to shower.


	20. Chapter 20

YES, I KNOW A LOT OF THIS IS PROBABLY OOC, BUT IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE A REPLICATION OF THE SHOW - I JUST WANNA HAVE A LAUGH WITH THIS ONE.

"I'm not even talking to you," Catherine snarled as the group walked to catch one of the buses that shipped people from the hotel to the theme park.

"Fine. But you could have started _that_ stance last night," Grissom replied.

"I just can't believe you," she sighed in exasperation. "Gil, you are a pain in the ass. You've woken us up twice with all your mad rabbit sex," she complained.

"Oh, so it's okay for _you_ to bonk like mad, but when Sara and I want to make love, you get on our backs." He looked over his shoulder to Sara, motioning with his eyes for her to come and join them. She sidled up, and he automatically reached for her hand.

"This about last night?" Sara asked brightly. She was feeling fulfilled, even more so than she had done before. "We're sorry, we really, are Cath." She took in Catherine's sceptical glance. "But I was trying to prove a point."

"What? That you two make more noises than rhinos mating?"

Grissom spluttered. "I hardly think that's an accurate representation of us in bed." He frowned in amusement. "I can't even believe that I'm talking about this in front of _one_ woman, never mind _two_."

Sara grinned. "We weren't that loud, Cath. I think what you heard was just the bed. The springs are a bit funny."

Catherine winced. "I am going to go and find someone else to talk to. Someone who won't squick me out with the details of their sex life."

Gil and Sara shared a smile as Catherine waltzed off to act prima donna to the rest of the group. "You think we were excessive last night?" Gil asked, genuinely interested.

"No, I don't. Then again, I had the most wonderful night last night, so I'm hardly going to see eye to eye with Cath, am I? I mean, if she wants to get back at us, all she has to do is bonk Warrick."

Grissom laughed, a delightful sound that was rarely heard - even after living with him for a relatively long time, it wasn't a sound that graced Sara ears often. She leaned into his side and he put an arm around her waist, his hand resting on her hip. "She does. We were privy to that, or have you forgotten? But I suppose hearing two of your colleagues ... doing things ... it must be a slight gross out."

"It's a good thing we didn't give her a blow by blow account of our ... encounter."

"Sweetheart, I think that's only something safe for a bedroom." He caught Catherine's eye and gave her a little wave.

Sara noted his actions, and smiled a bit. "I think I've let out the beast," she commented. "You're going to antagonise. Then again, it's not like you didn't do it before."

"Maybe, but my antagonisms were previously unintentional. This time, I'm goin' for the jugular." He gave her one of his evil smiles, a smile that sent shivers to the most intimate part of her body and psyche.

"God, you really _weren't_ lying. You're _dangerous_."

"You ain't seen nothin' yet."

"I can't believe we didn't do this yesterday," Greg said, staring at the very long queue for Splash Mountain. "Got the goods for us on this, Grissom?" The group had split into three - Warrick and Catherine had gone off together, as had Brass and Nick, and Greg had tagged on to Gil and Sara

"Practically a vertical, fifty-foot drop," Sara commented languidly. "No safety harness, just a wooden log." She flashed her diastema.

Greg shrugged with his mouth, obviously impressed. "Cool. So, he's rubbing off on you?"

Grissom's face took on a clueless expression, and Sara pursed her lips in thought. "You might wanna rephrase that, otherwise you could possibly get more information thatn Catherine." The couple watched his face freeze and then drop.

Grissom smiled. "Or do you already know? Has Cath been bitching to everyone?"

"She may have mentioned something briefly. I think she has the idea of filming you two and making it into a video just so that you'll stop. You know, shame you two into celibacy." He smiled nervously.

"Why'd we have to get stuck with him?" Grissom's voice took on an uncharacteristic whine.

"Actually, thanks for that, Greg. We could always get evidence of Catherine and Warrick." Sara smiled hopefully.

"And to think, I only came here to enjoy a few rollercoasters." Grissom rolled his eyes.

"No way babe, you gotta put up with the whole infantile behaviour."

"May I remind you that you two were involved in the _only_ prank that happened here - the black marker pen? Hmm?"

Grissom and Sara shared a guilty look. They all leaned against one of the low walls, waiting their turn for the log flume.

"Another enjoyble day," Sara commented, sipping her wine. She and Grissom had ordered room service - pasta, salad and wine. "You think we're all getting on?" There was only one person, maybe two, out of all the guys there that she had never argued with - Greg and Jim. Both were closer friends to her than Catherine, Warrick and Nick, and, at one point, even Grissom. She knew that if anything ever happened between the two of them, the lab rat and the detective would always be there.

"Indeed," Grissom agreed contemplatively. He reclined back against the pillows and regarded the empty plate on his lap. "We're getting along with one another better than I thought we might have done. I'm just happy that things seem to be going all without a hitch, for once," he added, sneaking a sideways glance at Sara.

She regarded him out the corner of her eye. "We seem to be saying that a lot - we're happy or we're glad, or people are happy or glad for us."

Grissom shrugged. "Still, I wouldn't wanna put you in a compromising position. Not with your friends, anyway," he added with a naughty grin.

"Oh, I'm not falling for your rough charms again while we're here," she said with total conviction. "I'm sure we could save ourselves for Ventura. Or San Francisco."

"Ventura, please. I couldn't wait for San Francisco. I'm a man. I have needs," he reminded.

"Well I'll give you something to nurture those needs," she whispered huskily. She saw him swallow, and smiled. "Me, lying on a beach, in my bikini, and if you're lucky, maybe you can apply my sun-tan lotion." Her smile widened at the look on his face, and she cleared the dishes from the bed, stacking them in a neat pile on the bedside table. "Sweet dreams," she murmured, going to shower.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: Apologies for the delay (ahem) in writing - I guess I've got no excuse (well, I have, but I don't think you'd be very interested, and, to be frank, I can't be arsed giving a potted autobiography). Oh, and Kudos to Mel for beta-ing (okay, for giving me the idea in the first place).

Sara stirred in bed. She could hear a very faint thumping, almost as if someone was hammering a nail into a wall, or something like that. She groaned and turned over, rolling into Grissom's bulky form.

"Whoomf, hmmmm," came his sleep-fogged groan.

"Can you hear that?" Sara grumbled.

"Huh?"

"That thumping. Can you hear it?" Sara repeated. She struggled to sit up, pushing Grissom's heavy arm from across her stomach.

"Sara," he wheedled. "Go back to sleep."

"No way. I wanna know what's going on." She swung her legs out of the bed and dragged herself up, reaching for her dressing gown. Sighing in resignation, Grissom followed her.

A sight certainly awaited them when they left their room. Standing outside Catherine's door, in all his crowning glory, was a butt-naked Warrick, who, in between trying to pull a white bath towel from the closed door, was banging his fist on it vociferously. Sara and Grissom were the only two privy to this intimate moment, but it wouldn't be long before Nick, and (God forbid) Greg would wake up and come to investigate.

Sara shared a small grin with Grissom, then turned to Warrick, trying hard to keep the grin from her face. "Uh, you wanna come inside our room while you wait for Catherine to finish doing whatever it is she's doing? Might get a bit nasty if anyone else sees you in this predicament."

Warrick yanked the towel free from the door, and restored (somewhat) his modesty. "If you wouldn't mind," he grumbled bashfully.

None of the three saw the door to Greg's room ajar, his blonde spikes poking through the minute gap in the door. He had heard, and seen everything, and was pretty sure that after tonight, he would probably be scarred for life. It reminded him of seeing other guys' butts when he was in the fraternity at college - not one of the nicest times of his life.

Grissom had given his dressing gown to Warrick, and was getting a shower when Catherine knocked on his and Sara's bedroom door. Sara had been reclining on their bed, reading a book, and Warrick was sitting self-consciously on a chair in the corner of the room, near the door.

"Why the hell are you in here?" came Catherine's fraught tone.

Sara looked up and raised an eyebrow, and even Grissom stuck his head out the bathroom door. "Can we help you, Cath?" Grissom inquired.

Catherine looked from, to Sara, to Warrick, and back to Grissom. "Did you two kidnap him?" Catherine demanded, eyes narrowing. "Were you going to use him in your fiendish sexual exploits?"

Sara thought better than to even _think_ about laughing, and tried to hide her guffaw behind a cough. "Nope. Gil and I heard thumping, and we opened our door to investigate. We then found this hunk of spunk standing butt naked in the hotel corridor, and took pity on him before anyone else, namely Greg, found him out there."

Catherine turned to Warrick. "How the hell did you get locked out of the hotel room?"

Warrick shuffled about nervously, and spoke up. "My towel got trapped in the door when I left to get some clean clothes, and you'd already gone for a shower."

Catherine tried to stifle _her_ laughter now. "How long were you out there for?"

Warrick pursed his lips. "Five minutes." He looked at the three faces indignantly. "Hey! It was cold out there. I was in danger of ... shrinking."

Sara smirked. "Looked fine from where _I _was standing." This earned her one embarrassed glance, and two angry glares. She shrugged indifferently. "You finished in there, Gil?" she asked innocently. "I need a shower."

"One second." He finished clothing himself, and stepped out of the bathroom, exchanging a glance with Catherine. "Sorry," he mouthed as Sara holed herself up.

"I can't believe you said that," Grissom complained the minute Sara had finished getting ready.

"What? Did I embarrass you?" she asked nonchalantly.

He wasn't sure if Sara was genuinely not bothered, or whether she was trying to stoke the fires of jealousy within him. He ignored the green colour he could sense tingeing up the surroundings, and shook his head. "Uh, no. I was more concerned that Catherine might try to gouge your eyes out with her nails."

"Oh, and you wouldn't have protected me?"

"Nope. Not against a woman. Besides," he added, stuffing his wallet into his pocket, "I'm only there to protect your _honour_ from other men."

Sara rolled her eyes and grabbed the room keys. "Thank you," she replied sardonically. "Come on, we should get some breakfast."

As soon as she and Grissom set foot in the breakfast room of the hotel, she knew that the two of them, and Warrick and Catherine, were not the only four to have seen what had happened that morning. The only reason she knew this was because Catherine's face was blacker than it had been about half an hour before, and Warrick looked as though he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"Who else do you think knows?" Grissom whispered in her ear as he put a hand on her hip and steered her towards the other couple's table.

The two of them saw Greg leaning over the table and whisper furtively to Nick, then look up and flash a discreet grin at him and Sara. Luckily, Catherine and Warrick's backs were facing Greg, otherwise there would probably have been a white-chalk body outline on the floor of the breakfast room.

Sara wisely kept her counsel, and reached for some toast. "So, how did you guys sleep?" she asked.

Catherine raised an eyebrow, but decided against any smartass comments. "Fine, thanks. You two?"

Sara nodded. "I like these beds. Good to sleep in," she answered plainly.

Grissom hunched forward slightly. "Don't worry. I'll get Greg on his own later on," he told them. "Make one or two certain, direct threats, and he should keep silent about this little episode."

"And if not?" Warrick piped up for the first time, still looking uneasy.

Both Grissom and Sara shrugged. "We're all criminalists," Sara said. "I'm sure we'll find a way of keeping him _schtum_ permanently." The four of them shared a brief grin, then commenced with their breakfast.


End file.
